Shadows
by Zyzyax
Summary: Written for Spyfest 2019 Week 3. Prompt: "Alex's best punchline to a villain." Let's be real, Blunt is the actual villain in the series. Why wouldn't Alex eventually have a line for him? Also: mild spoilers for "Alex in Afghanistan" if you haven't read it. You can understand the story w/o it, though.


**Shadows**

* * *

Alex was not expecting to see Alan Blunt again, but he had always been prepared for the moment. Killing him would be suicide, but that didn't mean Alex wouldn't keep a sparkly pink Taser with Blunt's name on it on his person. Really, what did the man expect? A cheerful greeting? Alex sat back in his chair and tried not to let his not-a-date notice that he'd suddenly gotten very, very nervous. The lady was an arms dealer, but a nice one. She actually understood the whole spy thing. Alex might have trust issues, but so did she. Their friendship had an interesting start, to say the least. Unfortunately for Alex, Blunt spotted him and seemed to want something as he came over. Alex wasn't quite sure how he knew, but he somehow knew Blunt was going to ask him for another mission. Well, ask was a strong word. Demand would be more like it. With a side-helping of pure blackmail. Alex drew his Taser under the table as the grey man approached. They were in a restaurant where he could get away with American table manners. Blunt didn't know it, but Alex had a clear shot. "Mr. Rider."

Alex felt his eyes narrow. "Blunt."

Alex's date was now glaring daggers into the man. Elaine was not Alan Blunt's biggest fan, to say the least. "A lovely lady, I'm sure. We have a spot of trouble we want you to look into."

Alex mentally groaned. "How about no; does no work for you?"

Blunt sighed. You might mistake it for pity if you didn't know better. "Well, I'm sure Interpol would love to meet your girlfriend. Tragic, but unavoidable. Perhaps you'll pick someone better next time."

Alex snapped. "Fuck you, Blunt."

Blunt just took out the file and paid no heed to the fact that one of Alex's hands were not showing. Elaine looked at him, questioning. Alex let his eyes drag around the room and come to rest on her again. "Language, Alex."

Alex took one look at the file. Elaine seemed to have gotten the message. "Ew! Is that a cockroach?!"

Alex had never seen a restaurant clear that fast. There was a slow silent pause. Alex squeezed the trigger of the Taser. Blunt jerked almost comically under the electric shock. Alex felt a cold sharp rage. Technically, this was longer than strictly necessary for the Taser to work, but Alex felt like the man deserved it. "To quote my new favorite television character: Not today, Satan!"

Elaine seemed to be doing her best not to collapse in a fit of giggles. Alex was just glad someone besides Tom shared his sense of humor. Elaine suddenly grew serious. "Also, I'm not his girlfriend." Alex decided to cut the power to the Taser. It was almost odd, seeing the man who once held absolute power of his life, now boneless and at his mercy. But then, that had been the goal here. Elaine got up. "Time to go?"

Elaine gave him a look. "Alex, I like you, but you really do fit the dumb blond stereotype sometimes."

Alex pouted, but it was a fair criticism. They walked out of the eatery together. Alex knew it would be a long night because he was finally breaking away MI6. Alex was not sure what the penalty for making Alan Blunt meeting with him more electrifying than usual, but he was sure it was not going to be Tulip offering a mint. Alex was surprised at Blunt's lack of visible security. Elaine was eyeing him. "So?"

Alex gave her a look. "Do you know anyone who can get me out of England?"

Elaine gave him a dry look. "Don't get insulting."

Alex grinned. "Hey, you never told me what kind of gun runner you were."

Elaine shrugged. "You never asked."

* * *

Alex stared into the horizon. Unsurprisingly, Elaine had gotten him a boat. Nobody had asked a single question all day. The line-up for this day had been going on for years. Alex wondered if Elaine wasn't setting him up, but he supposed he would have to trust her for now. The redhead had been pretty reliable for anything MI6 wouldn't approve of in the past, but for all Alex knew, she could be a double agent. Or working for a SCORPIA remnant. Alex walked into the dining hall of the ship quite a bit later. The sunset on the sea was not something he wanted to miss. Alex wondered how much he should really be trusting this. Elaine had known dealings with Gordon Ross. Alex hadn't minded but hoped the man had never brought up him in a conversation. Alex wondered if he should even be surprised anymore when he saw the redhead in the cafeteria. "Alex!"

Well, shit. He knew he should have disguised himself. Even _drag_ would be more comfortable than being recognized by his ex-instructor and the high heels were _awful_. Alex sincerely hoped the person who invented them had died painfully. "Ross."

The man rolled his eyes. "You can call me Gordon. Everyone does."

Alex sat down and wondered whether or not to touch his food. "What? No gunfire or dramatic speeches."

Gordon laughed. "Oh, you ran into one of _those_. No, we save the dramatic speeches for clients."

Alex blinked. "One is a generous estimate."

The man was as cheery as ever. Then again, the man was cheery while teaching you how to build bombs, so Alex was a little skeptical. "Why are you here?"

Gordon just looked at him. "You Tased Alan Blunt."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It was about time he got some of what he was coming to him."

Gordon sniggered. Alex wondered how deep the man's grudge ran. "I fully approve."

Alex frowned. "Darn. I might have gone too far. You know you've gone off the sticky, sticky deep end when you teacher from assassin-land approves of your actions."

Gordon pouted. "Aw, c' mon Alex. That's just rude. Please tell me you stabbed him afterward. Pretty, please."

Alex just looked at the man. "I could, but that would be a lie."

Gordon sighed and muttered under his breath. "Always needs to be an accident with you, eh, Alex?"

Alex mentally rolled his eyes at the implication. He wasn't a murderer. He just...didn't try very hard to keep his enemies alive. Well, and that one time he shot Julius. There was a difference. "Look, Gordon, they _really _were accidents."

The man shook his head. "Mmm. Hmm. Sure. Whatever you say, Alex."

Alex got the feeling the man was amused and that Gordon didn't believe him. "I'm looking up that video footage now. It's going to be my new motivational video."

Alex shook his head. Honestly, he was tempted to the same. Gordon continued. "Did you really say 'not today, Satan'?''

Alex gave Gordon a look. "Yes."

The redheaded man burst out laughing. Alex was starting to get concerned about the man's already dubious sanity by the time he stopped. Gordon wiped away tears of mirth. "Never change, Alex."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I don't intend to."

* * *

It had begun years earlier. Alex had known enough after his second mission. They were never going to leave him alone, so he would have to find his own way out. And probably his own weapons. Blunt had said no guns, but nobody had said anything about Tasers. Alex had a feeling that if he explained it to Smithers, the man would probably keep quiet about it. The man had always been more about the letter of the rules than the spirit of them. Cough, stun grenades, knockout darts, Cough. It was nice to have somebody on his side, though. Alex had also jerry-rigged a bug in Blunt's office. He was shocked it hadn't been detected. Didn't they scan for bugs? Hell, even Ian made him scan random hotel rooms for bugs, although Alex had thought it was a scavenger hunt at the time. It was probably a bad idea, but now it was paying off. He wanted to know the real reason he'd been sent to Afghanistan. To the casual viewer, Alex made a call. Of course, there was nobody to pick up the other end, but it was a special kind of phone call. Alex sincerely hoped MI6 wasn't paranoid enough to check every cell signal. He would probably be a dead man. Of course, they would have to find the other "phone" on him first. "Do you think he'll find out why we really sent him?"

Tulip was at the other end. She didn't know that she was being listened to or recorded. "No. The boy is intelligent, but not experienced enough to put all the pieces together."

Maybe he wasn't, but he was smart enough to bug the office. Checkmate. "We sent him to deliver a bomb in a camera, Alan. This is serious."

Blunt paused. "He was too much of a threat to live, even without a reactor, Tulip. This was the right call."

Alex mentally cursed Blunt to a painful, fiery death. The man had turned him into an unwitting assassin. Alex felt himself wanting to cry but stomped on the urge. Later. He could deal with this later. For now, he was going to get away from MI6, even if it took him years. Alex took a deep breath and hung up the call as the elevator opened. The receptionist didn't question him on his way out, not that he expected that to happen. It was time to plot. He'd have to keep this from Jack. She'd lose it completely if she knew.

* * *

After Alex had been unceremoniously dropped in France, he decided to take his first real holiday in years. It was nice not to have to be suspicious that somebody was going to blow up the world. It had been strangely cathartic to take down his ex-boss. Alex could honestly say he did not have a single ounce of remorse. Plus, he could be on vacation and figuring things out for a good while. It was nice to have savings. Alex had, in fact, gotten his degree, no thanks to MI6. Online college was a wonderful invention, plus people had started accrediting it. It had flexible hours, to say the least. Alex had decided computers were the way to go after all of the action he had seen. Alex refused to join armed forces of any kind and he wanted out of intelligence. The man wondered if he should try to visit his friends here. Blunt might take that as a sign for blackmail, though. He just decided to wander for a bit. Hopefully, Jones wouldn't try to track him down too hard. The escape had almost been too easy, but Alex wasn't about to complain. He'd had enough of getting shot at. It was a miracle he'd lived this long as it was. He was kind of petty, but not enough to put in the actual effort to hunt down and kill Blunt or ruin his retirement with a trial. Alex was just tired and he wanted to move on with his life. He briefly wondered whether he'd be getting his wish, but decided he'd go with the flow and worry about it later. Alex had decided to keep his Taser. You never know when one of your enemies would just show up. After all, his boat ride contained Gordon Ross. Alex was ninety percent sure Jones had said he was taken care of, but Alex wasn't exactly shocked by the lie. He wondered if it had ever happened or if Gordon has just managed to slip out of jail again. Then again, he could have had help. Julius Grief had gotten out of whatever black site they were keeping him in. Alex vaguely wondered if he shouldn't tell Tulip to move it, but remembered it was not his problem any longer. Alex stepped onto the nearest street. France should have plenty of hotels. Especially near the beach. Alex planned to walk further inland, however. The weather was fairly nice and beachside hotels were pretty damn expensive. The passport he had on him identified him as Alex Moore and he'd already had his travel visa forged into it. He doubted they would check, but it was made with the proper ink and design. He would need a new one soon, but he'd learned to make his own from certain associates. Not that they would ever cop to teaching him. Alex wondered what the rumor was saying now. It had to be entertaining.

* * *

Gordon Ross was not exactly shocked to hear that Alan Blunt had fallen on the wrong end of Alex Rider's Taser. He was more shocked it wasn't a firearm, but Alex was usually pretty smart about just how much he could get away with. Murdering his former boss would put him on a lot of shit lists and Alex got next to no actual backing if rumors were true. Of course, if there were no marks and no medical proof, the others would probably take his side. Gordon wondered if he knew that Elaine had taken full advantage of this. He could just not care, Gordon supposed. If it was him, he'd want to see the man tortured. Elaine had quietly had the man's security team taken out. All but one of the couples in the restaurant had been one of their employees. Elaine had seen an opportunity and taken it, although she had been fully prepared to shoot Blunt herself. Predictably, Alex had (nonlethally) intervened. Getting him alive was the trickiest part, frankly. The man was certainly more valuable like that, but the security measures had been a nightmare to counteract. Gordon was almost glad Alex had used a Taser. Blunt was known to have no heart conditions, but they hadn't been able to get their paws on whether or not the man was allergic to any sedatives. It would be a pain if Blunt died of anaphylactic shock. And so anticlimactic. Ross wondered if his boss was going to try to bring Alex in. The kid was really good at his work. Cough, assassin, Cough. Gordon wasn't fooled in the slightest when Alex claimed accidents. It was a deeply ingrained habit for most agents on the dark side of grey. The real trick would be convincing him not to do that shit anymore. Look, nobody in SCORPIA cared if your hobby was throwing drug dealers who dealt in your neighborhood off of high buildings. Absolutely nobody. Heck, Nile was notorious for being a mass murderer both on and off the job, but Alex had somehow managed to kill him. Gordon sighed. At least this had gone well. SCORPIA was going to rebuild. Under a different name, of course. This was only the beginning.

* * *

When Alex heard Blunt's mutilated corpse turned up on a beach, all the pieces fell into place. Alex recalled the restaurant, Blunt's lack of security team, Elaine, and Gordon. Something was going on. Who was still alive? What did they want? Alex hoped they wouldn't come after him. He just wanted to be left alone to do his work on computers. Alex leaned back in his chair. Fortunately, his coworkers were not the curious type. Well, not about people anyway. Video games and science papers were a different story. Nobody had asked him about why he was unusually fit for someone who sat at a desk. Not a single peep about his weird arm scars. They had even told him it was fine and he could wear short sleeves. It was hot in the summer, after all, and they weren't tattoos. Alex sighed and through his hair. "Sick, huh?" Alex decided saying that he fantasized about doing the same was probably a bad idea. Then again, his co-workers were exceptionally morbid. They would probably think he was being funny. "Yeah." Alex wasn't that mad about being conned into helping them kidnap the man. It wasn't like he had actually trusted Elaine unconditionally. He was glad she hadn't tried to kill him to cover it up, though. SCORPIA could and would do that. They usually did. Alex supposed they might have learned their lesson, or perhaps were biding their time. He was just glad he had a normal-ish life now. It was a nice IT job, he had an extremely athletic group he had joined, plus he even had a book club he regularly attended, albeit he rotated subjects (and therefore nights) while claiming he was just picky about books. They had all been pretty accommodating, as long as he read the appropriate book. Alex had decided that he was going to keep his love of extreme sports and not let the mission steal that from him. Besides, it brought back some of his nicer Ian memories. The parachuting was run by an ex-SAS man. Alex found it hilariously ironic that the guy actually liked him as opposed to what happened nearly ten years ago. Apparently, knowing how to pack a parachute was a major plus in his book. Alex had taken to getting his kicks out of BASE jumping and regular parachuting. The man had just looked vaguely amused as Alex broke them into numerous tall buildings. It was kind of funny, he supposed. How easy it was for people like him to get around those pesky, pesky locks. Alex decided it was about time to wrap up and sent his document to his boss.

* * *

Speaking of which, the man was headed right for him. "I turned in my report, boss."

The man gave him a look. "No, it's not about that."

Alex felt an ominous sort of shiver that he suppressed. "Then what is it?"

The man looked at him oddly. "The director wants to see you."

Alex felt a faint twinge of alarm. He hadn't done anything terribly illegal in almost three years. Nothing that would get him fired. At most, it would be a fine and a bunch of grumpy policemen. "I haven't done anything."

It was true, for once. Alex had tried to be competent, but fairly unremarkable, most days. He came up with a few good ideas a year and otherwise was punctual, helpful, and otherwise unassuming. "He said you'd know why when you saw him."

Alex's creep factor definitely went up. He was glad he always wore weapons and ballistics fabric. Call it paranoia, but he really didn't want to get shot in the chest again. It wasn't fun and MI6 was no longer paying his hospital bills. The elevator descended, to his surprise. He hadn't known and hadn't bothered to ask whether the office had a basement. Alex could feel that they were going underground. His ears did not appreciate the pressure change. The man was silent next to him. Alex was almost reminded of SCORPIA. The dead silence from the help. The hidden floors. The fact that nobody was answering any of his questions. Alex wondered if he'd be seeing silver scorpions somewhere. He had the self-discipline to not drum his fingers. Martin, his boss, was just staring at him as though he was expecting some sort of reaction or explanation. "I got nothing, boss."

The man snorted. "Not for much longer."

Alex resisted the urge to gulp. They got to the bottom floor. The walls were metallic and unpainted. It was cool but dry. The man next to him knocked on the door. "Send him in."

Alex almost froze. There was no point in not going in. He knew he should have checked this place more closely, but he thought he was safe from his old world. Alex stepped in. The office was almost identical to the one he remembered from Malagosto. It was probably on purpose. Alex took a deep breath and remembered the protocols that had been shoved down his throat during his stay on the island. "Doctor Three. What _do_ you want?"

The man looked at him. "Sit down and shut the door, Alex."

* * *

Note: This was meant to be a cliffhanger. I might do a sequel later.


End file.
